She Just Needed a Little Love
by shegoismyfav
Summary: Lynn Smith, designer extraordinaire, has done the one thing no one has dared to do before: She's befriended the devil herself, Cruella De Vil! Join Lynn as she documents the story of their friendship and reveals a story that, until now, has been kept under lock-and-key.
1. Chapter 1

"So, Ms. Smith, how did you meet Cruella De Vil?"

"Simple. I had just moved here from America..."

…_**..…..…..…...….Flashback...**_

Lynn Smith, at twenty-four years old, was very successful. A self-earned millionaire, she had just moved to London to work for the devil herself, Cruella De Vil. But unlike the career that had made her rich, she would not be designing. Rather, she had taken a break from designing to work as the British fashionista's assistant. Though she had heard the rumors of the woman's explosive temper, she couldn't say it intimidated her.

In the few years she had spent as a designer, she had dealt with the dragon Miranda Priestly enough to be hardened to a few childish temper tantrums. La Priestly had destroyed her once, and she had spent a whole year working to prove herself worthwhile. If she could take that and keep going, she could handle anything the she-devil threw at her. It had been with pleasure Ms. De Vil's secretary Olonzo had given her the job, though she wasn't sure if it was because she was a famous designer or because he wanted someone else there to take the brunt of the woman's temper. Whatever the reason, she was just glad to have had a job waiting when she stepped off the plane.

As she walked up the steps to the House of De Vil, she couldn't help but notice the skittishness that enveloped the staff. She strode confidently into the inner office and checked in with Olonzo before claiming her position at the desk just outside Cruella's massive office doors. It wasn't long before production stopped dead, and someone's presence dropped the room's temperature twenty degrees. The madwoman herself stood on a catwalk that led directly to her office. Lynn snorted quietly at the ludicracy of such a thing.

Within five minutes she had been summoned into the garishly decorated office of the fashionista. She looked around with a sharp eye, mentally dissecting the space and putting it back together in a much more tasteful décor.

"Ms...Smith, is it?" Cruella's voice floated across the vast office.

"Yes."

Lynn crossed the room and took a seat in front of the desk without being asked. The two women studied each other, and each came to their own conclusion. Lynn decided that the woman wasn't as menacing as everyone made her out to be.

"Original?" Cruella gestured to Lynn's dress, one she had designed herself.

"Of course, though I rarely wear my own designs."

Cruella's eyes widened.

"You're a designer?"

Lynn's eyes flickered to Olonzo, who seemed to be telling her to deny the notion.

"Yes, perhaps you've heard of me. Lynn Smith? I moved from America recently, mainly to get away from Miranda Priestly."

She couldn't hide her disgust for the woman, and Cruella smiled.

"The dragon burned you too, hmmm? Well, I think you'll quite like our little fashion house."

"You do understand, Ms. De Vil, that I'm not here to design."

Cruella looked confused. "Then what are you here for? I've seen your work, and it's fabulous. I also happen to know you're a millionaire."

"That's true, but I need a break. My creativity has been...smashed you might say. I'm here to work as your personal assistant."

"We-well then," the diva stuttered, obviously caught off-guard, "I suppose you should get started."

"Yes, I suppose I should," Lynn replied evenly, still unsure of the woman.

As it turns out, the rumors of Cruella's temper had not been entirely unfounded. Lynn witnessed a display shortly after a tailor sewed the wrong type of stitching in a new stole for the winter line. Everyone had cringed and avoided the black and white whirlwind at all costs, but Lynn had simply followed behind, making sure anything the woman broke was promptly cleaned up.

…_**..…..…..…...….Flashback...**_

"It was that simple?" the young journalist asks, scribbling down the end of the story.

"Yes. I believe I said that three years with Miranda Priestly fully prepared me for anything Cruella could have thrown at me."

"Weren't you the least bit intimidated by that woman?"

"Not in the least."

"Interesting. Now Ms. Smith, I come to the main point of our little interview: How did you become friends with that wretched woman?"

The man cringes as the woman's eyes flash.

"That 'wretched woman' is my best friend, and I'll kindly remind you to speak of her in a warm way. Now, to answer your question..."

A smile graces her face as she sinks into the memory.


	2. Chapter 2

Lynn had been working for Cruella for three months when the first seeds of friendship were sown. She had the reputation for being the only one in the whole company able to go into Cruella's office uninvited and not come out verbally scarred. What confused everyone was that she was more often in their boss' office than not, something that caused most of the staff to wet their pants just thinking about it. On her part, Lynn didn't understand why her coworkers were so afraid of the diva. In the three months she had been working there, Cruella had been nothing but kind to her.

She supposed that was because she didn't tremble in fear every time she talked to her and looked her in the eye when she spoke. Apparently that earned her some respect from the woman. In return she found herself being friendlier to her boss, working tirelessly to please her and making sure the fashion house was running smoothly. Occasionally, when business was slow, she would take tea with Cruella and they would talk and laugh like old friends. On this day that was not the case. Cruella had stormed in like a whirlwind early in the morning and had locked herself in her office, refusing even Olonzo entrance.

Lynn tolerated this until three-thirty, but when the woman refused tea she knew something was seriously wrong. Cautiously, she entered the proverbial lion's den armed with a box of tissues and tea. All the lights were off, the only light provided by the large oval window behind the desk.

"Cruella?" Lynn called out tentatively.

"Whoever that is, get out."

Lynn could tell from the way her voice sounded that Cruella had been crying. This surprised her because generally emotions and Cruella didn't mix. Instead of leaving, she reached over and pressed a button on the office's control panel, causing the room to be flooded with florescent light. She almost dropped the tea tray when she saw her boss.

The woman was curled up in her large office chair, face protectively hidden in her garish red coat. Lynn approached slowly, making a lot more noise than necessary to let the woman know she was there. Wordlessly, she sat the tea tray on the desk top, walked around the desk and, without thinking, wrapped the smaller woman in a hug. She didn't react at first, but then she tensed and pushed against Lynn as if pushing her away would make her forget the whole thing. But the young woman held on, refusing to budge.

After a few minutes, Cruella went limp, and soon after Lynn felt warm tears soaking into her shirt. She held her and let her cry, vowing that whoever caused the powerful fashion mogul to cry like that would pay dearly. After about twenty minutes, the sobs turned into sniffles and Lynn sat back, allowing her employer some air. Cruella's makeup was streaming down her face and without a second thought, Lynn reached over, snagged a tissue, and began cleaning it away.

"Thank you, Lynn," Cruella whispered, eyes downcast.

"No problem."

"I knew it was you, you know."

"How?" Lynn asked, genuinely puzzled.

She was sure she hadn't identified herself after she entered. Cruella gave a strangled laugh.

"Because anyone else would have immediately vacated the room. Besides, no one but you has ever had the courage to touch me."

They sat in awkward silence for a few minutes before Lynn remembered the tea. Upon touching the pot she discovered it had grown cold and buzzed for Olonzo to bring some fresh. She gently stood from Cruella's chair and turned it around so that Olonzo wouldn't see Cruella in her state of weakness. He brought in the pot and left quickly, sensing the tension in the air. She poured for both of them, and after forcing Cruella to take it, settled herself in the chair she had dragged around the desk.

"So, what or who has caused you to be in such a snit? Kindly point them out and I'll rip them limb from limb."

Cruella smiled before sighing heavily. "I'm afraid there's nothing you can do."

"Of course there is. You point out the jerk that made you cry, I beat him to a pulp, and he never speaks to you again. It's a win-win situation for everyone."

Her attempt at humor fell flat when the older woman whimpered. Lynn slid out of her chair and crouched on the floor in front of her.

"Hey, hey, I was just kidding. Well, mostly. Come on, what's made you so upset that you're crying?"

Cruella exhaled shakily. "My mother died this morning." Lynn gasped and took Cruella's hands in her own. They felt icy, and she absentmindedly massaged them to get some warmth into them."I didn't particularly care for her, or love her, but she _was_ my mother."

"I was sitting there, taking in the news, when it hit me: I'm alone in the world now. She was my last living relative you see, so now I have no one."

A single tear slid down her cheek. Lynn reached up and wiped it away.

"I'm sorry, Cruella. I know how it feels to lose someone you love." At her quizzical look, she elaborated. "My mother died shortly after I moved to New York. Bone cancer."

"I'm sorry."

Lynn sighed. "It's okay, I've accepted it and moved on." She shook her head as if clearing it. "Look at us," she said with a smile. "Locked away in here drowning in sadness when we could be terrorizing the staff."

Cruella offered her a smile, and Lynn forced herself into a standing position.

"Come on, I'll accompany you home. You look worn out."

She turned to relay the instructions to Olonzo. In a flash, her hand was grasped in a black clawed opera glove. She turned to face its owner.

"Thank you," Cruella said sincerely.

"You're welcome."

There was definitely a shift in their relationship after that. Within a month they were the best of friends. You never found one without the other.

…**...**

"Ms. Smith, Ms. Smith..."

"Hmm, oh yes, the question. Well, I hardly think she would appreciate me giving all the details. Let's just say I was there when she needed me and we've been close ever since."

"But that's hardly fair!"

"I think," Lynn says with an icy tone, "it's quite fair, considering I should be at Inferno Hall right now. Given my condition at the moment, you're lucky she's not here with me raking her clawed gloves down your face."

The reporter visibly pales at the vivid picture that's now emblazoned in his mind.

"O-of c-course." He clears his throat to regain his composure. "So, you never addressed her as Ms. De Vil? Didn't she flay you with her tongue?"

"It never occurred to me that I never addressed formalities. But as I've said before, I wasn't afraid of her."

"Interesting. So, what's she like in private? I bet she's vicious."

"Mr. Johnson, if you're going to insult Cruella I will simply have to leave."

She struggles to stand, and the newly identified Mr. Johnson hurries to keep her in place.

"No, no, I apologize. Too long in the circuit I suppose."

This seems to appease her, as she lowers herself back into her seat.

"Well, that's an easy question. She's very kind, warm, loving. She is the best friend one could ask for."

"Begging your pardon, but I find that hard to believe. Can you give us an example to back your claim?"

"I suppose I could..."


	3. Chapter 3

Lynn had been living in London for about a year and had been Cruella's friend for nine months. Within that time she had been promoted to vice president of House of De Vil, and as a result the staff regarded her with as much fear as they did her friend. And of course, she just had to be hit with a bad case of homesickness. It didn't help that the day was overcast and dreary, rain threatening to fall at any moment. Her mood was horrible, and if you asked any of the employees of House of De Vil, they would swear she was Cruella in disguise.

It wasn't yet eleven, and she had already fired two people, simply because she didn't like their particular wardrobe. Cruella, whom you'd think would be pleased, was actually quite worried. It wasn't like Lynn to act like this. She was normally so kind to those worms that worked for them. Shortly before noon, when the third person had been dismissed, she called her into her office.

"Lynn, whatever is the matter?"

"Nothing," the young woman replied quickly, too quickly.

"Come now, darling, I know there's something wrong. You simply aren't behaving like yourself."

The young woman looked anywhere but at Cruella, unwilling to reveal her problem, which was ludicrous, at least to her. She started at the clawed glove that was gently but firmly grasping her chin, directing her to look into her friend's face.

"You can tell me."

"You'll think I'm positively thick."

"No I won't, I promise."

"Okay." Lynn exhaled heavily. "I...I just-...feel homesick."

"Is that all?" Lynn looked up in surprise to Cruella's sympathetic face. "I had begun to think it was something serious." She reached over and pressed a button on her intercom. "Olonzo, Lynn and I will be out the rest of the day. Any creative questions should be handled by Frederick."

"Y-yes M-madam, but wh-why are y-you going t-to-"

Cruella's face flushed a brilliant shade of red at the question.

"It is none of your business! I pay you to assist! So assist!"

"Y-y-yes M-madam."

By now, Cruella's outbursts did nothing but amuse Lynn. She enjoyed watching everyone flailing about trying to contend to the woman's wishes.

"So, what do you have planned?"

"You'll just have to wait and see," the woman responded with an mischievous grin.

"Oh no, I know that look. If you're thinking about a trip to the spa you might as well forget it."

"But I wasn't-"

"Or shopping. No spa, no shopping. Anything else I'm game for."

"You're no bloody fun," Cruella said with a pout.

Lynn stood up with a grin and headed around to Cruella's chair.

"But you love me anyway. Come on, say it," she said, nudging the older woman with her shoulder. "Say it!"

Desperately trying not to smile, Cruella relented. "All right, all right! You're right! I love you!"

After saying this, she started to laugh. It was short-lived, however, because Olonzo walked in at the exact moment she told Lynn she loved her. He dropped the tray he was holding, causing the water pitcher and glasses to shatter. He rather resembled a fish as he stood there, his mouth gaping open and closing as he struggled for words. Cruella's eyes turned to ice as she glared at him, causing him to cringe.

"You will not repeat anything you heard. Do you understand me?" At his nod, a little tension left her shoulders. "Well then, what are you waiting for? Clean that up, you nitwit!"

With that last insult ringing in the air, she grabbed Lynn's hand and proceeded to leave the building.

…**...**

"I had been working for her a year and was experiencing a bout of homesickness. I was so vicious all the staff swore I was Cruella in disguise. I fired three people before noon. She was concerned so she called me in to talk to me. I admitted my problem and we left."

"But how did that help you?"

"Honestly, just being around her soothed me."

"Ah. And what did you do after you left?"

"Honestly? We went to a movie and then back to Inferno Hall for—and I shudder to speak it—makeovers."

"Cruella De Vil gave you a makeover?"

"Yeah, I let her. I figured it was the least I could do since I dragged her to a public theater. She has a private one at the manor, you see."

"Could you tell us-"

They are interrupted by the sound of Lynn's cell going off. Without looking she answers the call.

"Hello, darling. No, he hasn't finished with me yet. I'm fine, don't worry. Yes, I'm sitting down. I'd say in about an hour. No, I haven't been giving away too many details. Well, other than about myself. I know I promised. I'll make it up to you later, okay? Good. Love you, too. Bye."

She turns back to Mr. Johnson, whose mouth is hanging open in shock. He recovers quickly and begins firing questions at her.

"Are you involved with Cruella? Why does she want to know how much longer you'll be here? Are you currently living at Inferno Hall?"

Lynn's eyes blaze at the accusations.

"NO, I am not involved with Cruella. We are just good friends. She simply wishes to know what time she should pick me up. And yes, I am living at Inferno Hall. Have been for the past year and a half or so."

"Wow. This will make a great story."

"I hope," she says, her voice razor sharp, "that you won't be spreading any false rumors. You know very well that Cruella could end you in a matter of seconds."

He clears his throat nervously and tugs at his collar.

"Right, well then. Can you tell us some of your favorite memories involving Ms. De Vil?"


	4. Chapter 4

"A few do come to mind..."

…**...**

Three years Lynn had been living in London, and she thoroughly enjoyed it. For her twenty-sixth birthday she spent the night at Inferno Hall. Now, what most didn't know about Cruella was that her body temperature was lower than average. She was cold all the time, which was part of the reason she wore fur coats.

Thus, Inferno Hall was kept unbearably warm. But Lynn found with time you became accustomed to it. And a secret of hers was that she liked the noise that heat vents made. The sort of quiet roaring noise of the air moving through the ducts soothed her, and she could often be found curled up in front of one the vents in her flat when the heat was on. And because of Cruella's revulsion to anything below ninety degrees, the heat was on constantly in Inferno Hall.

It was by pure luck that Cruella hadn't discovered Lynn's little quirk yet. For that Lynn was glad. While Cruella was not normal by any means, this was right up there with her obsession with heat. But of course, luck couldn't last forever. That was why the young woman practically hit the ceiling when a soft snort came from behind her.

"Jesus, Cruella, why'd you have to go and do that for?"

"Can I help it if I was surprised to see you curled up on the floor in front of a heat vent?"

Lynn could hear the amusement in her voice, and ducked her head in shame. Cruella could see her friend was embarrassed, and immediately felt guilty for startling her and pointing out her odd little habit. The younger woman was so focused on ignoring the black-and-white woman behind her that she jumped when she felt soft fur press into her back.

"I'm sorry," the older woman whispered sincerely.

"I know, and you have no need to be. I was just startled, that's all. And I admit, it _is_ a little odd to see someone curled around a heat vent."

Throughout the conversation, she made no move to push away from Cruella. At this point in their friendship, nothing the woman did surprised her. It didn't even occur to her to push the other woman away, even though by all rights she was spooning her. Instead, she snuggled back into the fur that was wrapped tightly around Cruella's body.

"Happy birthday, darling."

"Thank you."

The two fell asleep there, warmed by the heat, and calm in each other's presence.

…**...**

"So you're telling me Cruella De Vil spooned you? And you _let_ her?"

Lynn shrugs.

"Well, yes. And I wouldn't say 'spooned', exactly."

"Then what would you call it?"

"Her version of cuddling. Well, one of them anyway."

Mr. Johnson's eyes are practically bugging out of his head at this latest bit of news. Lynn sighs in a way that says she's tired of talking to someone so thick in the head.

"Look, I'm the first friend she's ever had. At first, she didn't know what to do. It took her forever to get the courage to hug me. Now I'll admit, the first time she ever chose that particular way to cuddle, I slid away and asked her what she thought she was doing. She answered in such a small, unsure voice that I couldn't be mad at her.

"_'Cuddling_, she said, _Isn't that what friends do?' _I didn't have the heart to tell her we weren't that kind of friends. And then I started thinking about one of my friends back in the States. Whenever she stayed over, and it never failed, I would wake up at least once every time and she would either be spooning me, or some part of her would be draped across me.

"And no, neither one of us swings that way. It was just an unconscious thing she did in her sleep, and I mean, it didn't bother me. I knew she couldn't help it." She takes in his face and can tell he's still stuck on the fact that she cuddled with Cruella De Vil.

"You...cuddled...with...her?" he asks slowly, almost as if the concept is too foreign to be voiced aloud.

She can't help but face-palm at his stupidity.

"Yes, many times. You see, she suffers from horrid nightmares. I mean, and you must understand, they're kind of nightmares that make grown men wet the bed. And before you ask, no, she doesn't wet the bed. She simply needs an anchor to remind her that whatever sick fantasy her mind created isn't real, and of course she seeks comfort."

_If you had listened to my explanation a few minutes ago I wouldn't have to tell you this_, she couldn't help but add in her mind.

"You seem so calm speaking about this topic. Why is that?"

"I grew up with a younger sister. Whenever she got scared she would run to me and we would cuddle. It calmed her down instantly."

_Might as well tell him a truth he'll be able to believe._

"Ah, so when Cruella..."

"Exactly. It's no different than my comforting my younger sister."

"And when did you first discover she was a, how do you say...cuddler?"

Lynn laughs a bit as she begins to remember.

"I'm afraid it was my fault..."


End file.
